


Surfacing

by ayatsujik



Series: Threads and Times [9]
Category: Natsume Yuujinchou | Natsume's Book of Friends
Genre: Awkward Conversations, Coming Out, F/M, Gen, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-01-11
Updated: 2020-01-11
Packaged: 2021-02-27 11:00:37
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,767
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22206016
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ayatsujik/pseuds/ayatsujik
Summary: Touko and Shigeru ask; Natori and Natsume answer.
Relationships: Fujiwara Shigeru & Fujiwara Touko & Natsume Takashi, Fujiwara Shigeru/Fujiwara Touko, Fujiwara Touko & Natori Shuuichi & Natsume Takashi, Natori Shuuichi/Natsume Takashi
Series: Threads and Times [9]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/870417
Comments: 20
Kudos: 122





	Surfacing

**Author's Note:**

> As with all the other works in this series, this can function as a standalone, but it also connects directly with the foregoing stories, especially [Part 8](https://archiveofourown.org/works/18508738), so you can consider checking those out too if you haven't already :)

_Through the blades of grass, gently, gently, gently  
_ _There is another way, yes, another way, another way to pray_

\-- Tori Amos, "Indian Summer"

Shigeru was deeply, obviously displeased. He'd been so from the moment of their's visitor arrival, pushing aside the box of expensive sweets and the business card offered to him after a cursory scan. The flow of conversation had been dammed by long intervals of silence.

Touko cast a nervous glance at her husband, as she had so often over the last twenty-odd minutes, observing the heavy furrow between his brows, and the disapproval etched into every line of his face. She followed his gaze out to the young man seated across from them at their dining table, noting once again the tense set of his handsome features, and the silent appeal of his clasped hands, resting on the table like a supplication.

"Once again, I beg your forgiveness," the young man said, his voice low and tense. "Please don't blame Takashi-kun - it's all my fault. I take full responsibility for our relationship."

"Will you promise to stop seeing him?" Shigeru asked, coldly. Under the table, Touko squeezed his hand in gentle protest, but he refused to meet her eyes.

Natori Shuuichi fell silent, the fingers of his hands clenched so tight their tips had gone white.

"Well, if you can't do that, I don't know what you mean by 'responsibility'," Shigeru said, each word flat and clipped. "Should I call the police? Since this appears to have started when Takashi was a child."

" _Shigeru-san_!" Touko burst out, horrified and indignant. Shigeru said nothing more, but he glanced at her, contrition blunting the sternness of his face.

Natori had gone pale, but his gaze remained steady, and he sat with his back ramrod-straight. Silence descended over the room yet again, making the shrill song of cicadas outside seem unsettlingly loud. Touko counted her breaths, in a fog of anxiety; she could only imagine what Natori was feeling.

Was there, she wondered, anything she could say? Would it make things worse? She didn't know if she'd ever seen Shigeru so inexorable before.

She escaped this dilemma with the sudden intrusion of other noises: the clattering slide of their front door, a thud, and light scuffling. The thump of something heavy and soft, like a duffel bag, falling down. Sock-clad footsteps ran over the floor, rapidly approaching them.

Touko, who'd been half-expecting this addition to their gathering, saw Shigeru's eyes widen, and thought a voiceless _I'm sorry_ at him.

Natori, who had turned in his chair to see the intruder, looked equally thunderstruck.

"I'm home," Natsume gasped, panting, bracing himself against the entrance to the kitchen. "I - may I join you? Please. Touko-san. Shigeru-san." His gaze swung to Natori, who was regarding him in consternation.

Touko reached out to Shigeru again, squeezing his hand tight.

*

For some time now, Touko had become aware of a change in Takashi. Something had happened to him, she knew. Something good.

He didn't say anything, but she sensed she was right. At some point he'd acquired a new lightness about him, a certain kind of glow. She caught him smiling to himself now and then. His voice even sounded brighter, and he seemed to simply be enjoying himself, as if the days held something delightful in store. Touko wasn't sure when this evolution had started, but she had a definite idea about what was causing it.

She didn't pursue the issue, though. Things got in the way - little things, bigger things. Everyday housework, going to visit sick friends, a distant relative's passing. Takashi's university applications and graduation exams. The start of Takashi's freshman year in the school he'd chosen, an hour's train ride away from their home. He'd gotten into the larger, more prestigious prefectural university, in the big city several hours away, but he'd decided on this one. She knew it was, in large part, because of them.

You don't need to stay for us, Shigeru told him. If you want to try living on your own, you can. Go and make your own space, Takashi. We'll support that - don't you worry about the money, or us, or anything. We want you to be able to do what you want.

Next to him, Touko nodded, determinedly smiling, quashing the wave of sadness that swept over her on hearing that. It was true, after all; children had to leave, someday, no matter how much it hurt you to part with them. They hadn't taken Takashi in to confine the course of his life, or to burden him with obligations.

But Takashi only smiled back, sweetly, and shook his head. This is what I want, he said. His voice rang with a firmness and clarity that stopped them from saying anything more (although Touko knew that Shigeru still worried about how to convince him not to worry about them).

And then she finally told Shigeru about what she'd observed, months ago, perhaps a year or so ago by now. About the lightness to Takashi, the brightness around him. It wasn't as obvious as when she'd first noticed it, but it was still part of him.

She told him this as they were getting ready to sleep on a night at the start of summer, when crickets had just begun chirping in the grass outside. Shigeru was reading a book on his futon, waiting for her to finish her bedtime ritual of combing out her hair, still thick and silky despite its dusting of white-speckled grey. As she spoke, he slipped a placeholder into the book and shut it, listening to her with the quiet, serious look she didn't love any less, decades later.

When she finished, he rubbed his chin thoughtfully, looking amused.

"That sounds like you're on to something, Touko-san. Well - it must be someone he's fond of, don't you think?"

"I knew you'd agree, Shigeru-san!" Touko said, clasping her hands together in excitement. "That _did_ strike me as the most likely thing."

"He's in university, after all, with lots more people around," Shigeru replied, smiling. "Or a high school friend who went to the same place, maybe?"

"It's got to be that, then, since I'm sure this started some time last year," Touko declared. She put her brush away, and began braiding her hair meditatively. "But I still feel surprised, somehow. Takashi-kun never seemed to be interested in anything like that before."

"Sometimes these things take a while to develop, even in teenagers," laughed Shigeru. "I certainly didn't realise right away why I liked spending time with you so much, Touko-san."

"Well, you're dense, Shigeru-san," Touko huffed. "What a good thing I was patient."

Shigeru coughed. "We're talking about Takashi, aren't we?"

"Yes, yes," Touko said, making a face at him.

"It's about meeting the right person, after all," Shigeru mused. "Takashi's a serious boy - I don't think he would date anyone casually."

"I know I shouldn't ask him about it," Touko said, guiltily, "but I'm dying to meet her. What kind of girl do you think he likes, Shigeru-san?"

"I wouldn't know, if you don't, Touko-san. I agree you shouldn't pry, though. Let the young people settle their own affairs of the heart."

*

She went back and forth for a while, trying to decide whether or not to ask. Curiosity got the better of her in the end. After all, she thought, if he's too shy to tell me, I won't press him about it. But it wouldn't hurt to tease him _just_ a little, would it? He's so cute when he's embarrassed.

The first opportunity she spotted came on a day that Takashi's morning seminar got canceled, which allowed him to remain at home for a leisurely breakfast. When she came in from dusting the steps, he was still sitting at the kitchen table, reading a novel and absently tickling Nyangoro's round belly with a feather he'd salvaged from her old duster. Touko noted, with a warm glow of pleasure, that the dishes were washed and dried, and a fresh pot of tea on the table.

"Takashi-kun," she said lightly. "Are you seeing someone? You look so happy these days, like it's springtime in your heart."

He froze, dropping both his book and the feather. Nyangoro squawked, the sound oddly like a warning.

"Ah-hah," Touko laughed. "Did I guess right? Tell me _all_ about who it is, won't you? Don't worry, I won't tell Shigeru-san - not right away, at least!"

It was only then that she stopped, startled, on seeing how the colour had drained from her adopted son's face, and how stiffly he was holding himself, something like panic reflected in his eyes.

"...Takashi-kun?" she asked, worriedly. "What's wrong?"

He composed himself, taking a deep breath. "May I talk to you, Touko-san?"

*

What if the Fujiwaras ask, Natori had said to him a couple of months ago.

"If they ask, then I'll tell them," Natsume answered, his voice clear in the quiet of his room. He exhaled, gripping the edges of his windowsill. A light breeze wafted over him; it was still early enough in the summer that the nights were cool enough to sleep with an open window.

He'd come to this conclusion some time before, but he'd never said it aloud until now. Hearing himself give voice to this decision somehow made it feel more real, more viable as a course of action, as illusory as he knew that comfort to be.

Nyanko-sensei, dozing on a cushion at his feet, opened an eye.

"Don't look at me like I'm doing something stupid," Natsume muttered.

"As I've known over the course of my long and mighty life, humans can't help being stupid," Nyanko-sensei sniffed.

"I don't want to lie," Natsume said heavily. "I couldn't, Nyanko-sensei. Not to them."

"You keep secrets from them," his not-shiki pointed out.

"That's not the same as lying, is it? I don't think they'll ever know what to ask me about...us. You know. The Book of Friends. Youkai in general. They'll never be able to ask about it directly. But Shuuichi-san..."

He broke off, pressing the balls of his hands over his eyes.

"Do as you please," Nyanko-sensei said, emitting a sound like a sigh and a snort in one. But he moved closer to Natsume, and curled up next to him, pressing his orange-white bulk against Natsume's leg. Natsume, smiling faintly, leaned over to stroke his cool, solid presence.

*

Touko listened, sitting very still, as her adopted son explained things to her. He took frequent pauses, his face pale with anxiety, but his voice was steady, though sombre. He kept at this task until he'd supplied enough information for her to understand the basic situation. It was what she'd suspected. It was nothing she'd expected.

"...A man?" she said, slowly. Surprise, bordering on shock, was making it hard to think. She looked at Takashi, who wasn't looking at her. He had his eyes fixed on his hands, which he was twisting nervously in his lap.

"Have I met him before?" she asked carefully.

He nodded.

"Is it...Tanuma-kun? Or another one of your high school friends?"

That must be it, she thought, grasping after calm. If nothing else, those boys were known quantities, and all quite sweet in their various ways. Teenagers got up to all kinds of things in school, didn't they?

He shook his head.

"But - but then, who else could it be? Who else have I met who's a male friend of yours?"

He looked at her, then, his face a silent plea for her to understand. She went through all of Takashi's other visitors they'd received at this house - it wasn't a long list - and her eyes widened. Tall, slim, well-spoken, and winningly handsome; someone who'd brought her flowers, who occasionally visited this house, and who made regular appearances on her TV screen. Her hands flew to her mouth, surprise blossoming into full-fledged shock.

 _Impossible_. What on earth would someone like that be doing with Takashi? It seemed ridiculous even to consider. Still, as impossible as it seemed, it had to be him, hadn't it? There wasn't anyone else besides his high school friends, and that nice boy from his junior high school, who Takashi hardly ever brought up, in comparison to this other person.

"Takashi-kun," she heard herself say, her voice trembling. " _That_ man? This isn't a joke, is it?"

"I'm sorry, Touko-san," he said, miserably, his head bowed. "It isn't. Please don't blame him. It's not Na...it's not Shuuichi-san's fault."

She stared at him, dumbfounded. Nyangoro, who'd leapt up onto Takashi's lap, twitched his tail.

*

Feeling lost, she sent Takashi out to run some errands in town - dropping off summer greeting cards at the post office, a new light bulb from the hardware store, a box of Nanatsujiya manju. Better to put some distance between them for a while, she thought, to help her figure things out. Having determined this, she tried to get on with the housework, thinking it would calm her down, and so proceeded to make herself finish hanging up the laundry. Then she swept the porch, changed the water in her flower vases, and prepared ingredients for a simple lunch. At last she allowed herself to sit down at the kitchen table, cradling a lukewarm cup of tea, and staring blankly out of the window as she thought hard - as hard as she'd thought about wanting to bring Takashi to their home, some four years ago. (How, she wondered, could those years have slipped by so stealthily, so placidly?) Still she found herself far from both composure and answers.

Did she know of anyone else's child like this? She searched her inventory of acquaintances, finally coming up with an Ishida-san, a distant senior who she'd met a couple of times at reunions for her high school gardening club. She'd mentioned at the last gathering that her son, much older than Takashi, remained unmarried. Touko recalled Ishida-san joking, after several glasses of wine, that said son only ever spent time in the company of men, as if he might just be _that kind_ of person. Ishida-san hadn't seemed upset at this possibility; not obviously so, at least. Nonetheless, everyone else had hastened to make light of her comment, showering her with reassurances and potential solutions. No, no, don't you worry, sempai, boys always take their own sweet time about settling down, sometimes they just need help. Are there matchmaking events in your town you could sign him up for? You never know who they might meet at things like that. Or a good agency in the nearest city, perhaps? New customers usually get discounts...

Ishida-san had merely laughed, waving away their well-intentioned concern with another sip of wine, and changed the subject.

"What should I do?" Touko asked herself, a catch in her throat. She took a sip of stone-cold tea, which did nothing to comfort her. It was awful, feeling like this. Like Takashi might just be in trouble, and that she was powerless to protect him from it.

That can't be true, she thought to herself, mutinously. There _must_ be something I can do to help him.

After some more thinking, two avenues for action presented themselves to her. The first was that she needed to discuss this with Shigeru-san - of course she did, she didn't know why she hadn't thought of that sooner. The second was that she also needed to discuss this with the man in question. She had no idea what she was going to say to him, right now. But some instinct told her that she had to talk to him, alone, and that it would be better to bring this up to Shigeru-san _after_ doing so.

Touko would, in time to come, appreciate how she had listened to herself. In the present, she pushed her chair back decisively and went out to the telephone. There she retrieved the little address book that lay next to it, flipping through the pages until she arrived at the list of names beginning with _Na_. She picked up the receiver, pressing each of the buttons with a grim sense of determination.

*

Two days later, as Touko hurried out of the train station, she could see a tall figure standing near the ticket gates, wearing a familiar bucket hat and a dark brown kimono.

"I'm sorry I took a while to get here," she said, trying to sound like her usual self. "Did you wait long, Shuuichi-san?"

"Not at all," Natori Shuuichi said, bowing to her. "Thank you for coming out to see me, Touko-san." He pushed his glasses up his nose. "If you don't mind, I thought we could go to a cafe that's close by - it's quiet, and the owner's an acquaintance of mine."

"Oh my, that sounds nice," she said, smiling at him in return, and feeling his pleasant demeanour soothe her nerves. "Yes, let's go."

Perhaps, she told herself, perhaps Takashi-kun was somehow mistaken. Could it be that he'd misunderstood this man, misinterpreted his warm solicitousness for something it wasn't? She found it hard to believe Takashi could be that lovestruck, but still - the trouble was that she could understand, and accept, that he was attracted to someone like this. Natori Shuuichi was, after all, so charming, so sparkling, even if you suspected that this winsomeness, too, was a kind of performance. Touko, glancing at him as they walked, grew ever more befuddled about what in the world someone like this would want with her boy, other than to be his friend. Notwithstanding how sweet and kind and handsome Takashi himself was, in his own way.

They sat down in a booth at the cafe, and she asked Natori Shuuichi to order for both of them, insisting that anything was fine with her. They were served by the owner of the place, an elderly, kind-looking man who brought small china teacups and an equally dainty pot of black tea to their table.

"Thank you so much for making time to see me," Touko began. She clasped her hands around her cup, which Natori had just filled. "I hope I didn't inconvenience you very badly with such a sudden request."

"Please don't worry about that," Natori said gently. "I would have told you if it was inconvenient. It's not a very busy time for me right now."

"I'm glad," Touko said. Her voice trailed off as she searched for a way to proceed. She'd simply called, obtained an appointment, and then blanked out on the train over, watching the passing trees and fields and utility lines go past in a haze of disquiet and uncertainty.

Pull yourself together, she scolded herself. He's just sitting there waiting for you to explain what all this is about.

Natori was watching her tongue-tied distress with thoughtful eyes. He took a sip of his tea, and put his cup back onto its saucer with a small sigh. Touko looked up at him, noting the sudden soberness of his face.

"Touko-san," he said, pushing his glasses up his nose again. "Is this, by chance, about Takashi-kun?"

She jumped, putting her hands to her mouth. Natori dispassionately studied the shock on her face, and nodded slowly, as if he'd expected that response.

"I think I can guess what you want to discuss with me," he said quietly. "And...as inadequate as words are, please allow me to say that I'm so very sorry. For everything."

He set his hands before him, and bowed to her, his forehead almost touching the table.

"So," Touko murmured. "You...Takashi-kun...seeing each other - it's not a joke? It's not - it's not a misunderstanding? It's _real_?"

Natori straightened up, his gaze slightly averted. He exhaled, staring out of the window, before slowly meeting her eyes.

"I'm afraid so," he said heavily. "I can only beg your forgiveness."

"Takashi-kun wasn't wrong, then," Touko said. A strange calm settled over her, Natori's sober acknowledgement unravelling the knot of disbelief in her chest.

"No," Natori said, quietly. "He's not. Still - I do understand what he means to you, too. And I am, again, so very sorry." He took a deep breath, folding his elegant hands together. Touko noticed the tremor in them, and the paleness of his knuckles.

"Do you think, perhaps...that I might intrude on your home again?" He paused. "At some time convenient for both you and your husband. When Takashi-kun's at school."

Touko regarded him, momentarily speechless. He bowed again.

"Please."

*

"Shigeru-san," Touko said, as they were finishing their dinner. They were by themselves, as Takashi had left earlier that afternoon. He was spending the weekend on a field trip, where the students in his seminar were going to stay at a hot spring resort in a town near the university.

"What is it?" Shigeru asked. He watched her clear the dishes and fill the teapot, the same one they'd been using since they first got married, with fresh-boiled water. She didn't reply, as she set the pot on a tray with two mugs and brought it over to the table. Only then did she go on.

"I want you to keep sitting down, and to be calm." Touko poured the tea, her eyes on the pale green liquid trickling into the mugs. "Promise me you won't get worked up over what I'm going to tell you."

"Well, that depends on what exactly it is you want to tell me, Touko-san," Shigeru said, looking at her oddly. "I'll do my best. Does this, by any chance, have to do with Takashi?"

She stared at him. "How did you know that?"

"Something's going on between the two of you, isn't it?" Shigeru sipped his tea, gazing at her in concern. "I could see it when we had dinner together yesterday. You both seem tense. I would have asked you about it, if you weren't going to bring it up."

Touko took a deep breath.

Later on, when she recalled that scene, she would also think of Takashi first confessing to her; his stumbling sentences, the anxiety radiating off him like a fire. She didn't remember exactly how she'd explained things to Shigeru, or how coherent she'd managed to be. What she did remember, the memory like a knife's edge, was how he'd looked as she'd said it, as if something had struck him in the face - that same face she'd made part of her life, with its neat sprinkling of beard, its thick brows, the greying hair that always got messy by the day's end, no matter how much gel went onto it. She was racked by guilt, for no good reason, at causing that beloved face such dismay.

"He says he wants to meet us?" Shigeru said, very quietly, each word a block of ice. "This Natori fellow."

Touko nodded, feeling a corresponding chill steal over her heart. It was terrible, she thought, terrible to hear the gentleness gone from his voice.

"At least he has some sense of decorum." Shigeru took off his glasses, using the fingers of his other hand to massage his temples. "Very well. Please ask him, Touko-san, to come over tomorrow evening. After we've had dinner."

"What if he's not free, at such short notice?" she asked, worriedly. "At night, too."

"If he doesn't make time to see us about this, that means he doesn't actually care about Takashi," Shigeru said, relentless. "And that, in turn, would mean he's not worth speaking to at all. Besides, I want to have this talk when Takashi's not around."

His tone was final. Touko, for once, could find no way of arguing with it. But she waited until Shigeru was taking his bath before she called Natori for the second time that week, listening to each ring of the phone in much the same state she'd been two afternoons ago, tense and jittery. He didn't pick up, this time. So she left a message on his answering machine, crossing her fingers for him to receive it that way.

"Please do come," she found herself saying at the end, almost plaintively. "We'll be waiting for you."

She hung up as soon as she'd finished the words, caught by surprise. Why, she wondered, had she added that? It seemed unnecessary. But she hadn't been able to squelch the impulse, and she found she didn't regret it. She thought of those clenched, white knuckles, the laconic weight of Natori's responses. No justifications, no defenses. Only an attempt to reach out, knowing that there might be no outstretched hands in return.

The next thing she did, propelled once more by an instinct she couldn't explain, was to reach for the receiver again. This time she dialled the number of Takashi's mobile phone. They'd given it to him as a present, last year, when he'd gotten into university, thinking that this slim, rectangular object, which had no part in their own lives, would make it easier for him to make friends from other, bigger places. It certainly made it easier to contact him when he was out of the house, at least.

Touko listened to this second series of rings as they trilled by, one after another. There was, again, a sharp beep, and the automated message of an answering machine instructing her to leave a message. He was probably busy with his classmates, then. Touko let out the breath she'd been holding, unsure if she was relieved or disappointed by this.

"Takashi-kun," she began.

In her next words, she didn't say that she'd gone to see Natori on her own. Neither did she ask him to come home. All she said, very briefly, concerned the meeting that would happen tomorrow night. She couldn't say precisely why she felt so strongly that she _had_ to tell Takashi, in defiance of Shigeru's wishes. Perhaps it had to do with the girl who still lived inside her, the one who believed that you couldn't do things behind people's backs, just because it wasn't fair. Perhaps it also had to do with how Natori Shuuichi had looked when he'd seen her off at the train station, some hours before, his face a closed book, and his eyes like those of a criminal awaiting a sentence. Perhaps, most of all, it had to do with the thought of Takashi after he'd made his confession to her: hunched up in misery, incapable of returning her gaze, and unbearably apologetic in the following days, treading eggshells around her with an air of remorse too reminiscent of the first awkward months he'd spent in their care.

Nothing, Touko thought, could be worth seeing him like that.

On putting down the phone she was seized by another impulse, vague but no less insistent, to cry. She breathed in and out, as deeply as she could, willing herself to be calm, and strong. For all their sakes.

*

"I thought you were supposed to come home tomorrow night," Shigeru said, eventually. He frowned at Natsume, whose face was flushed, and still slightly out of breath. He'd seated himself next to Natori Shuuichi, shooting him stray, anxious glances. Natori, for his part, remained silent, as he had since Natsume's entrance, refusing to look at him.

It occurred to Touko to wonder if Takashi was holding Natori Shuuichi's hand under the table, as she was still doing with Shigeru's. Somehow, she found, the prospect of that didn't bother her. She was suffused by relief, and a strange pride, that he'd made it back in time, that he'd managed to be part of this conversation.

"My..." Natsume said, faltering. "My plans changed."

Shigeru looked at Touko, observing the apology written over her features. He shook his head, and turned back to the two young men before him.

"Since you're here, then, and it seems like we all know why, perhaps we should get to the point." He coughed, fixing his gaze on Natsume.

"Takashi, listen to me. I can't approve of this relationship you have with Natori-san. I think the two of you should cease interacting. Unless you're willing to go back to being normal friends. But really, it would be best if you kept your distance from each other."

Natori opened his mouth, but got no chance to speak, as Natsume cut in at the same moment.

"May I ask why, please?" Touko could hear the shakiness in his voice, but he held Shigeru's gaze steadily, determinedly.

Shigeru raised his eyebrows, and Touko gripped his hand. Never, in the four years he'd lived with them, had Takashi ever questioned something they'd asked him to do. Part of her felt irrationally pleased that this was happening. It was, she later thought, the most like a young person he'd ever behaved, in all that time.

"It's not natural," Shigeru said coolly. "Even more than that, it's not good for you. For either of you. Besides your own future, Takashi, just think of how this would affect Natori-san's career, if the mass media ever got wind of it." He paused.

"If you really care about each other, in fact, you'll understand how risky this is. Now, I want to be reasonable. I won't ask for unnecessary details, or who started it, since Takashi's an adult now. I just want it to end. And then we won't need to pursue anything."

"Shigeru-san," Natsume said, the tremor in his voice growing. "Please forgive me. Shigeru-san, Touko-san. I understand what you mean...and you're right. I know."

He glanced at Natori again, who finally met his eyes. " _We_ know. But...I can't do as you say. I'm so very sorry. I know this is terrible of me, and that you must be so angry."

Shigeru stiffened, and Touko squeezed his hand yet again, willing him to be calm.

"I'm really, really sorry about that," Natsume said, the flush in his cheeks deepening. "It's just - I can't stop seeing Shuuichi-san. Because he's too important to me. But - but...I can't give you up, either. Touko-san. Shigeru-san." He swallowed. " _You're_ too important to me, too." He paused, collecting himself, and began again, the words tumbling out of his mouth in desperation.

"I know how incredibly selfish of me this is, and how disappointed you must feel...but please, please don't make me choose between him, and you. I can't do it. I really can't. It would be like trying to cut myself in half. _Please_." Natsume's voice caught as the sentence ended, and he blinked, hard and fast, his eyes bright with distress.

Seeing that made Touko want to rush over to his side of the table and catch him up in an embrace, giving comfort the way she would to a small child. She fought the urge down, but kept the words it had supplied to her, turning to Shigeru to offer them in entreaty.

"Shigeru-san," she said gently, stroking her thumb over the palm of his hand. "Won't you let this go, for now? It's been so sudden, finding out like this. It's no wonder we're all a bit shocked. Let's take some time to calm down. We don't have to settle everything tonight."

"Touko-san," Shigeru said, taken aback. "Don't you think they should stop this, too?"

"I..." Touko said, and stopped, as she met her son's pleading gaze.

"I did," she finally admitted. "At first. For the same reasons you just said, dear. But right now, looking at these young people, I think...maybe we should think about it some more. Even if we're worried about Takashi-kun, it's not - it's not as if this has made him unhappy, or stopped him from getting on with his studies, has it? So I don't think Shuuichi-san's a bad person, at least."

"Touko-san," Shigeru said again, heavily. "Do you really think so?"

She nodded, firmly, with the odd sense that she'd finally found her way to more secure ground than she'd been on all week. Looking over at Takashi, she was glad to see his face warmed by grateful surprise. Natori Shuuichi wore a similar expression, if far less obvious.

"Fujiwara-san," Natori spoke up now, his voice strained. "I don't deserve Touko-san's kind words. I am more than aware of how anxious you must feel, and I cannot pretend I have any good solution to those concerns. But - I promise you, I would never do anything to jeopardize Takashi-kun's well-being. And I can look after my own work, too."

Shigeru tapped his fingers on the table, his brows still furrowed. Natori pressed on.

"I don't expect your approval, or forgiveness, if you'll pardon such insolence on my part. All I ask is for you not to think any less of Takashi-kun, or to withhold your affections from him. He would never, ever recover from such a blow, because you mean everything to him. Please."

He got up from his chair, and bowed to them, deep and contrite. Natsume followed suit.

Shigeru removed his glasses, massaging his forehead as he shut his eyes. Touko looked at him, tenderly.

"It's very unexpected, but we told ourselves that we weren't going to choose Takashi-kun's life for him, didn't we, Shigeru-san?" she said, patting his hand. "So we shouldn't start trying to do that, now. Isn't that right?"

She took his hand in both of hers, smiling at him. "Let the young people settle their own affairs of the heart. I remember someone who said that, once."

Shigeru sighed gustily, and put his glasses back on, his face softening slightly.

"It's getting late," he said, sounding weary. "Don't let me detain you any longer, Natori-san. For Takashi and Touko-san's sakes, if nothing else. But I'd like to discuss this again, in due course."

"Of course," Natori said, bowing again. "Any time you want, Fujiwara-san. You have my card; I won't run away."

"See that you don't," Shigeru said dryly.

Natsume gave them both a tremulous smile, seconds before his face collapsed. Touko let go of Shigeru's hand, then, and hurried over to him, digging a handkerchief out of her skirt pocket. She pressed it to his face, drying his tears, and stroking his head as he began to sob, overcome by relief and exhaustion, feeling a lump rising in her own throat.

Natori squeezed Natsume's shoulder, bending down to murmur something in his ear; Natsume nodded, faintly, glancing at him.

"I hope I may be forgiven for imposing again, in future," Natori said to them, his voice low. "Thank you for all your kindness."

He bowed again, and slipped out into the warm darkness of the summer night. Nyanko-sensei, curled up on the roof, rumbled softly as he watched him leave.

**Author's Note:**

> This was the one of the most difficult stories I've ever tried to write, and I don't know if I'm entirely happy with how it turned out, although it wouldn't go any other way, and as glad as I am to have finally finished it. (It's hard to do Touko and Shigeru justice; the sub-title for this piece is really "A Love Letter to Fujiwara Touko".) I'd like it if this story makes space to imagine a happier ending in some other part of the narrative space for Natsume and Natori, bless them.
> 
> A big thank you to everyone who's read, commented, liked and subscribed to the pieces in this series since the first vignette, almost 2.5 years ago (!) I've loved writing all these stories and hearing from you on each one. Hope you'll drop by again, if new canon chapters or anime episodes or movies come out and move me to thinking of new fan-fictions for NYJC 🙂


End file.
